


Diplomatic Tensions

by Davechicken



Series: Kylux - Fluff & Angst [82]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-02 00:28:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8644258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Kylo loathes these functions.





	

Kylo hates these social functions like he hates socks once they’ve stepped in puddles and cling like sea creatures to your toes. _That_ is what high society is. Toe-monsters. Everyone smiles and plots your downfall, the drinks and the food are all so tiny that they wouldn’t feed a fucking Ewok who was watching their waistline, and the clothes are all starchy and gross and the only good thing about it is watching Hux swim like a shark through the shoals of prey-fish.

Hux _loves_ social functions. He adores them. He dresses up like he wants everyone around to desire him (they better fucking not. Except they should, because he’s gorgeous; but not get ideas, because he’s taken). His hands made daintier in fine gloves, his shoulders accentuated by flowing capes, his hair neatly tamed and his fabrics costing more credits than some people see in a decade. 

Maker, but he’s gorgeous.

Kylo stands letting politicians talk at him for a while, then - when the sounds of their speech crescendos to the point he’s supposed to reply - he walks off without even acknowledging their gasps of shock and horror.

(No doubt he will later be reprimanded for this. That may, in fact, be the point.)

Hux’s body gives a little shudder for his Knight when one thumb slides from one dimple on his lower back to the other. Kylo stands almost-flush to his side, and nurses his umpteenth glass of fizzy feel-good and cost-lots.

The Emperor finishes off his Grand Plan or whatever it is he’s talking about, then lifts his arm and waits for Kylo to link him. Kylo does, and lets himself be pulled over to the side of the room. No one will come too close when they’re _simpatico_ together, clearly conspiring and causing yet _more_ whispers and holo-snaps to sell to the mass media. 

“Have you been behaving?” Hux asks.  


“In a manner of speaking.”  


“How many diplomatic incidents?” Hux revises it to.  


“Two, minor, and you can trim those from the table, anyway.”  


“I suppose I should thank you for being circumspect?”  


Kylo grins. “I’m thinking of ways you could do that.”

“Oh?”  


Kylo tugs harder, so Hux really _is_ hip to hip. He turns his head, so his words are right against his ear. “I was thinking about stealing you before the end. Taking you to a closet. Kissing your lips pink, and feeling every inch of your ass, your back, your shoulders… sucking your tongue into my mouth…”

Hux squirms, and he’s clearly torn about if this should go on or not.

“Just touch you. Everywhere but your cock. Stroke your thighs with my hands, pull them apart. Make your cock stretch upwards, and ignore it whilst I nuzzle your belly, pull at your nipples…”  


 _Fuck_ , comes the mental voice, loud and clear.

“Make sure you remember you belong to me. Wrap your body in the Force. Make every step through heavy water, harder to move the further from me you are. Maybe open you up with the Force, too… haven’t decided if you’re fucking me, or I’m fucking you. So I better get you ready, either way. Hard and full, and open and wet…”  


 _MAKER_.

“Fucking up against the wall. Hard. _Hard_. So hard it almost hurts, and then fastening flies and belts back up and pulling coat-tails down so no one sees the come leaking out into your pants…”  


“ _KYLO_ , I have to _work_ ,” Hux pleads.   


“Or I could just go back to the rooms and jerk off.”  


Hux’s eyes tell him **absolutely not**.

“There’s a closet down the corridor,” Hux says. “Get there without anyone looking, and don’t you _dare_ start without me.”   


“Wouldn’t dream of it.”  



End file.
